Circle
by Of-butterbeer-and-frogs
Summary: From the moment he received his first hug, Harry Potter's only wish was to be loved. A different take on the "Harry must choose between Voldie and love" plot.


**A monster in a summer's dream**

**Sent to turn the day to night**

**A ghost inside an ancient house**

**Scaring children left and right**

**A demon in a young man's mind**

**Twisting, warping all his thoughts**

**A virus in a little girl**

**Eating, feeding till she rots**

**The difference between dark and light**

**Haunts the mind, disrupts the peace**

**It can turn a man insane**

**So swirling thoughts can never cease**

**You think about the white and black**

**Clearly defined, as plain as day**

**But what you never venture near**

**Is in-between, that shade of grey**

**And so, because we never go**

**Anywhere we haven't been**

**We cannot chase away the dark**

**The black of night, the black of sin**

**So haunted are we till the end**

**When God will put His judgment down**

**Until that day, we file away**

**In a circle, round and round.**

_-__Circle_

The first time he was hugged he was so startled he forgot to breathe. The warm, soft body pressed lovingly against his took away his ability to function for the better part of a minute, leaving him gasping in its wake. And when the person finally pulled away, he was left with a feeling of emptiness so deep it felt as though his heart was frozen with cold.

From that moment on, Harry Potter was determined to fall in love.

He wanted to feel whole again, like he did when Mrs. Weasley embraced him. He wanted to be happy again, like he was when Hermione gave him a blinding smile and a quick squeeze. He wanted to feel empowered again, like he was when Ron gave him a manly bear hug after a match. He wanted to feel like a brother again, like he did when Ginny gripped him tightly after a nightmare. He wanted to feel like he belonged, like he did when Albus held him close when it all became too much for him to handle. But most of all, he wanted to feel like he was loved.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But love never came.

The years past, the seasons flew by, and the world repeated its cycle. Love, hate; joy, sorrow; war, peace. A never-ending circle led by common rats in the sewers; too lazy to get on a new path. Too tired to bother picking themselves up when they fell.

And still Harry waited. But he did more with his time, now. He also watched, and learned. He observed others' mistakes, and strove to fix his own. He gazed at simple masterpieces, and wondered how a thing so great could be so small. He was taught that race, intellect, size, and power didn't matter, but the person inside the body was the thing that truly counted. He was at peace with Mother Nature, at peace with the world, and most of all, at peace with himself.

But he was not at peace with love.

He raved at it, ranted at it, swore and threatened and hit and kicked and hexed it until he was too tired to do anything more. Like the rats in the sewers, he was done.

And the world changed.

It grew brighter, more vibrant, with colors so beautiful they hurt to see. The scent of a flower became the most fascinating thing in the universe. The sight of a bumblebee was now the message behind the meaning of life. It became _more_, but nobody noticed. Nobody except Harry.

Everyday he walked the streets, simply enjoying being alive. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and no one was there to tell him otherwise. He was free as a bird, and like the creature he spread his wings and soared as high as he could before the wind took him away. Away to America.

New country, new state, new town. New friends, new neighbors, new job. New life.

New love.

And Harry was happy.

And Harry was loved.

But the world lost its vibrancy. It became a shadow, an empty shell of the extraordinary splendor it once held. There were no more colors or scents. No more dancing bumblebees or pretty flowers. No more laughing, no more singing. All gone, never to return. Unless…

Unless Harry gave up his love.

It was the hardest decision he ever had to make. To love and be loved in return, or to know the indescribable beauty of life itself. To love, to lose, to know the meaning of life. What to choose? He spent days on end wandering the streets once more, just thinking. Strangers gave him odd glances when he would stop to stare intently at a blade of grass, mentally weighing his options. The benefits; the curses of both. Then, finally, he made his choice.

It is said that one day, the world was bleak. It was grey, holding nothing but the rats that lived upon it, wandering in circles. But the next morning, while all the creatures of the earth were following each other in their daily ritual they called life, the dawn came.

And it was beautiful.

It is said the creatures of the earth looked upon it in awe, unable to even think because of its magnificence. Then, finally, they began to move. And it was not in a circle any longer.

They moved left, right, up and down. They ran or walked or simply stood, swaying back and forth. They crawled and climbed in zig-zags and loop-de-loops. Satisfied.

It is said that when the rain came, no tears were shed.

It is said that when the night came, no one was afraid.

It is said that when the moon rose, people prayed to God in gratitude.

It is said that when a boy arrived, no older than 20, with messy black hair and bright green eyes, they stopped to listen.

And Harry, happy once again, reflected on his decision. To love, or to help the world he now called home.

He chose _both_.

**Like it? Hate it? Review and tell me why! Please?**


End file.
